


Terrorstruck

by vix_spes



Series: Ties of the Heart 'verse [2]
Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Crack, Family, Friendship, Gen, Humor, POV Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 11:11:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2346338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even facing down a modern day Ripper and the Kray’s hadn’t been this terrifying … Chandler’s not entirely sure what that says about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terrorstruck

Detective Inspector Joseph Chandler had seen it all since he had started working in Whitechapel; women with their guts spilled out, men crushed to death and his own DS stabbed in front of him just to name a few things. He had seen truly horrific things and all of them inflicted by other humans so he had approached his current act with a certain amount of arrogance. He had presumed, apparently wrongly, that an afternoons shopping could (and would) be completed within an hour and with just a modicum of stress. He couldn’t have been more wrong. He had assumed that, having worried and stressed a lot before the shopping trip itself, that the act of shopping would be easier. It really wasn’t. It was all Miles’ fault. If he hadn’t gotten Judy pregnant and then made Chandler a de-facto uncle then he wouldn’t be in this position.

Not that Chandler begrudged that at all. He loved that the Miles’ had welcomed him into their family because it gave him a sense of belonging that he hadn’t had for a long time but he really hadn’t been joking when he had asked Miles if there was such a thing as courses in how to be an uncle. Thank god they had decided against having him as Elizabeth’s godfather. Apparently they had considered it, particularly seeing as it was Chandler who had foregone catching the Ripper in order to ensure that Miles lived long enough to actually sire Elizabeth, but had decided against it. At that point, Chandler hadn’t revealed his amazing baby-wrangling skills and Miles and Judy had decided that Elizabeth should have the same godfather as the boys. Chandler could understand that. If he was honest, he was relieved; having now been dubbed an honourary uncle was stressful enough.

Having decided that he wanted to buy a present, feeling that he _ought_ to buy a present, he had retreated into research, scouring countless internet sites for suggestions for suitable presents. Once he had a good idea of suitable gifts he headed for the closest place with a proliferation of baby shops, determined to purchase the gift in person rather than over the internet. He soon discovered that internet shopping might have been the safest option because his closest shopping centre was the Westfield Centre in Stratford. He had hoped that going fairly late on a Friday evening after he had finished work it would be relatively quiet but apparently not. Instead, it felt as though he had walked into a consumerist hell.

Everywhere he looked there seemed to be children who surely should be at home doing their homework or spending time with their families not roaming the shopping centre in packs looking far too intimidating. Avoiding them as best as he could, he found a map and located the shop that people had raved about, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that it was on the slightly quieter lower floor. That relief faded to dismay when he entered the shop and felt like he was entering hell all over again. Only this time, hell was otherwise known as The Build-A-Bear Workshop.

The shop had looked so innocuous from the outside with all of the happy little children leaving clutching their parents hand in one of theirs and with the other holding a cardboard hutch in a death grip. It had seemed all very normal and non-threatening. Clearly looks were deceiving because the moment that he stepped through the doors it was the complete opposite.

Everything about the place was terrifying from the children having a tantrum in one corner to the combination of bright colours and loud music to the overly-peppy and enthusiastic shop assistant who looked all of 12 years old. He was completely helpless as she talked at him, explaining about how the shop worked and asking about a million questions but not waiting for responses to them. He wasn’t entirely sure what he found most disconcerting; the obscene amounts that parents were spending on soft toys or the fact that you picked a name and then sat and made a birth certificate. He heard the shop assistant ask what he did for a living and absentmindedly answered that he was a police officer. At this, apparently vital, piece of information she disappeared only to rematerialize apparently before he could even blink holding a miniature Metropolitan police dress uniform on an equally miniature hanger.

“Once you’ve stuffed it and inserted the heart, we’ll sew your toy up and you can dress it as a police officer. If you want to give it a really personal touch, you can record a message and insert the voice box before we sew it up.”

Chandler visibly recoiled. Personal touch? No, that was taking things a step too far. That was definitely verging on creepy and he wasn’t going to buy one for Elizabeth. Besides, Miles would probably burn it if he heard it talk. Stammering out his thanks to the shop assistant, he practically ran out of the shop, almost colliding with an old lady in the process. Fumbling out an apology, she patted his arm consolingly and told him not to worry, mirth visible in her eyes.

“Don’t worry dear, that’s a normal reaction. If it’s a soft toy that you’re after there’s a much nicer shop just down there. More traditional; they sell Peter Rabbit’s and things like that. I got my daughter one for her Christening.”

Chandler could have kissed her in gratitude; it was exactly the information that he needed. An hour later, he walked out of Westfield wanting to cry in relief, a beautifully gift-wrapped plush Peter Rabbit in a bag.

  
(~*~)

  
The gift was well-received when he finally managed to give it to Elizabeth; she promptly stuck an ear in her mouth and started chewing, something that Judy claimed was the ultimate seal of approval. Chandler wasn’t convinced of that but he couldn’t deny that whenever he saw the smallest member of the Miles family, Peter was never far from her sight or her grasp. Having seen the tantrum that ensued when Elizabeth had thought that Peter was lost, Chandler was slightly scared by the power that a simple plush toy could have. He certainly couldn’t remember being so dependent on something like that when he was a child. He supposed that it proved his success at gift buying. And, well, he’d be lying if there wasn’t a small part of him that was delighted when the teddy bear bought by Elizabeth’s official godfather, ironically from the pits of hell that had terrified Chandler so much, went ignored in favour of Peter Rabbit.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would prefer to comment on LJ, you can do so [here](http://vix-spes.livejournal.com/168964.html)


End file.
